There was a smell of suicide in the air tonight. What did suicide smell like? Like dried blood, broken hearts, and lost souls. And if you wondered what suicide sounded like, it sounded like the utterance of the words “I’m fine,” the popping open of a pill bottle, the cocking of a 45 or the tearing of skin as a skinny little razor is drawn across it. And, going further, what did suicide look like? Suicide looked like the climax of a movie, the awakening from a nightmare, but most of suicide looked like an ending to the pain. That was how suicide smelled, looked, and sounded, and tonight I pray you never experience a true understanding of suicide.